


Trying it Out

by Lancinate



Series: Three Word Titles [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Awkwardness, Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Gen, M/M, Tony Stark is a terrible person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancinate/pseuds/Lancinate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets kind of curious about his sexuality and decides to deal with that the old fashioned way, by going online and soliciting random strangers. When Steve finds out, he offers up his services. Things don't go how either of them would have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying it Out

He taps the keyboard, thinks about putting effort into things and then thinks better of it. He erases the sentences he’s written and replaces them with one simple one, one that will hopefully weed out anyone who isn’t interested.

“Could I suck your dick?”

He hits send, and then he goes over to the next tab, and the next, spamming about fifty of the messages and closing all tabs before he can get cold feet and delete his account. 

He checks the site twelve times in the next four minutes, and then he closes it, and paces for a bit, and he comes back to see that he’s gotten a message, and so he closes down the computer and goes to get a drink. 

He feels weird, being in his late 30s and having never even sucked another guy’s dick. Not that most guys have, of course, but most guys who were interested in doing so had probably done so by the time they got to be almost 40. He’s just been busy. Busy running a company and saving the world and fucking lots and lots of women.

He’s fucked so many women. So why does the thought of sucking one little dick scare him so much?

He thinks it’s because of the fact that the dick would be attached to a person who would then be able to tell the whole world. He thinks that it’s just fear over being outed.

He wishes that they’d never found the tesseract, because then Loki wouldn’t have come, and he wouldn’t have met all of the Avengers, and he wouldn’t have asked them to move in, and then he wouldn’t have to spend half of his mornings running into shirtless Barton, and shirtless Thor, and Steve fucking Rogers in a tight white t-shirt, and then he wouldn’t have to spend so much time wondering if he’d enjoy sucking dick.

He’s of the opinion that he would. Because from a purely theoretical standpoint, he likes it a lot. From a theoretical standpoint he sometimes wonders if the bulge he sees in Rogers’ uniform is a result of padding or not. 

Theoretically he wonders a whole lot of things.

But making that theory a reality, well, it’s proving a lot harder than he’d expected. With women, it’s easy. He’s Tony Stark and they want him and that’s really all he has to do to make things happen. With men it’s clandestine and there are all of these paths he has to go through. It took him three weeks to get to the point where he was soliciting people, and now, two glasses of scotch in, he decides just to forget the whole thing.

***

He gets closer, in the next couple of weeks. Has a couple of conversations, but always chickens out before they got to the actual meeting face to face thing. It really is the fear of getting outed, he realizes. That’s really the only thing holding him back. And that really sucks.

He’s so close, so so very close, right in the middle of a conversation about specifics with a very promising man, when Steve fucking Rogers decides to walk into his lab.

Tony has very large monitors. They’re easy to read from a distance. And he probably should have changed the window when he heard footsteps, but he’s never learned to feel guilty about that sort of thing. If he’d been watching porn, he’d have just kept right on watching porn until the person either left or complained.

But he isn’t watching porn, he’s having a rather graphic conversation with a male stranger on the internet. And it isn’t just a person, it’s Steve fucking Rogers. 

He turns around like there’s nothing wrong, but he can tell by the look on Steve’s face that he’s already gotten the gist of what’s happening.

“Can I help you with something?”

Steve looks at the screen, and back at Tony, and back at the screen, and back at Tony, and he swallows. “Is that... a man?”

“Yep.”

“And you were going to –?”

Tony wants to smirk and roll his eyes at the look on Steve’s face, but embarrassment catches him instead. “I’ve never actually done anything,” he says, pursing his lips like it isn’t a big deal. “Just, got curious. You know.”

Of course, he thinks, Steve doesn’t know.

“Oh,” Steve says, turning pink. “Who is he?”

Tony shrugs. “I dunno. Some guy. I’m not going to find out.”

“Why not?”

“Because he could tell people, and I’m not exactly interested in that happening.”

“Oh.” Steve’s pink begins to take on a reddish tint. “So you don’t care who you do it with?”

“That’s kind of the idea of anonymous sex, yeah.”

“Oh.” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets, and looks around the lab, takes a few steps and studies his shoes, and Tony wants to ask him what, exactly, he’s doing here, but then Steve looks at him again. “I could do it. If you wanted.”

“You could what?” Tony feels like he’s being smacked in the face with a giant fish. Steve fucking Rogers did not just ask him to suck his dick. 

“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Steve says, looking down, his face absolutely crimson and fuck if that isn’t turning Tony on.

The answer, of course, is no. There’s no fucking way he’s sucking Steve fucking Rogers’s dick. And Steve’s definitely just proposing this because he’s a man, and all men are the same even if they pretend to be noble and true and the perfect American. Steve’s just trying to take advantage of Tony’s moment of weakness, and the answer is absolutely, completely, no.

“Okay,” Tony says. “Sure.”

And he’s kicking himself, even more when Steve looks up at him with a hint of a smile ghosting on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, panicking a bit because he sure as hell isn’t ready to suck Captain America’s dick right now. “Thursday night. Meet me here. Uh, 8.”

“Okay.”

Great. He’s going to give Captain America a blowjob.

Steve doesn’t leave, though. He hesitates by the door, and then he turns back, and says “uh, I’ve never uh, done that before.”

Great. He’s going to give Captain America his first blowjob.

“Nothing to it,” he says out loud, and seriously, it’s a little irritating that Steve would just barge in and demand that Tony suck his dick and then act like it’s going to be difficult for him, to just sit there and pretend not to be disappointed when Tony can’t get all of it in his mouth. 

He’s glad when Steve accurately takes that as an invitation to go away.

He watches as Steve leaves, watches specifically as Steve’s ass leaves, waits until he’s out of range before he groans and hits himself in the head. “Jarvis, why didn’t you stop me? You were supposed to stop me.”

“You’ve never done anything to indicate that Captain Rogers’ proposal was unwanted, sir.”

And Tony just groans again.

He wonders what Steve’s deal is. Because he doesn’t have to be gay to let Tony suck his dick, of course. More likely he’s just an opportunist. Tony’s never really bought the good guy routine. Nobody’s that good. 

He wonders if Steve would want to fuck him. If Tony did a good job, or if Tony wasn’t doing a good enough job, he wonders if Steve would offer to fuck him instead. He wants to hope so. He’s been fucked before, with strap-ons, he knows he likes it, but he’s never taken an actual dick. 

He doesn’t need women or porn when he can think about what it would be like to take Captain America’s dick.

He shouldn’t be thinking about that. He shouldn’t be reading more into things. He should just be happy that he’s found someone he can try giving a blowjob to, and face the fact that it’s going to be a one time thing.

If he does a good job, Steve will probably be okay with doing it again. He doesn’t get laid much, as far as Tony can tell. He could probably turn this into a friends with benefits thing, if he played it right. What guy doesn’t like getting a blowjob? Particularly his first one. It doesn’t matter that Steve’s not into him. An orgasm is an orgasm. Right?

And if Tony gave him enough blowjobs, at some point it’d just make logical sense for Steve to fuck him. Just because it’s easy. Because Tony’s easy.

He’s okay with that. Being easy.

****** 

He can’t stand the thought of running into Steve the next few days. He stops wandering downstairs during breakfast time, because he can’t imagine seeing him with his bedhead and pajama pants and pretending everything is normal.

On Wednesday, he almost chickens out. He doesn’t because he wants this so badly, and because Steve’s already agreed, and there’s no reason not to. But he almost does anyway.

On Thursday he gets to his lab five minutes early, tries to make it look like he’s been working there all day. So that if he has to, he can pretend he just forgot about it entirely.

He didn’t, of course. He just spent way too much time on the internet, reading about how to give a good blowjob. He spent way too much time cleaning down there on the extreme off chance that Steve might want to fuck him. 

When Steve shows up he’s way more uncomfortable than Tony would have expected for a man about to get his dick sucked. A better man might have called things off, just seeing the way that Steve walks in with his hands in his pockets and a blush already dotting his cheeks.

Tony just gets more comfortable. Steve brought this upon himself, he thinks. So what if Steve’s thinking it’s not worth getting a blowjob from someone he doesn’t like. He can stop things, if he really wants to.

He doesn’t, though. He walks up hesitantly, and Tony stands up to meet him, because he’s not sure of the formalities of this.

“I’m not, uh, going to be very good,” Steve says, looking everywhere but Tony’s face.

There’s something wrong with that sentence. There’s nothing to be good at, when you’re getting a blowjob. “That’s okay,” Tony says, feeling so uncomfortable, not knowing how to get them from this standing position to a place where Steve’s dick can try to slide down his throat.

“Right,” Steve says, and he takes an awkward half step toward Tony. And then he’s just sinking to his knees, hands unbuttoning Tony’s pants before Tony can say stop, no, this isn’t what we negotiated. But they really hadn’t negotiated. So maybe it was.

And fuck if the idea of Steve fucking Rogers giving him a blowjob isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard of. 

He can’t move as Steve unbuttons his pants, as he lays his face against Tony’s boxers and then pulls them down, Tony’s hardening dick brushing against his face as it comes free. It takes him a ridiculous amount of time to say anything.

“Um, Steve,” he finally says. “Uh, would you mind if I sat down?”

“Oh,” Steve says, looking up at him with these big fucking eyes, and turning red like Tony’s criticizing him, when really it’s just that he can’t imagine being able to gracefully ride out what’s definitely going to be a powerful orgasm in this position. “Okay.”

Tony finds the most comfortable office chair he can, cursing himself for never getting a couch. And he props it against a bench so that it won’t move, leaning back as far as he can to give Steve enough room. 

Steve kneels more hesitantly in front of him, and Tony would definitely be stopping this except that there is literally no part of him that wants to. Instead he just leans back and fixes his eyes on the ceiling so that he doesn’t have to watch Steve looking earnestly lost in the direction of his dick. Because as much as that’s so fucking hot, Tony still has some sort of moral compass and is absolutely not willing to let it interrupt. 

So he closes his eyes and imagines things instead, imagines watching Steve’s hand wrap around him, so warm and strong and big, pictures the way that he must have licked his lips before kissing him, because they’re so slick and wet already. And he moans just a bit as Steve tries to take him into his mouth, because it’s still too fucking hard to believe that Captain America is going down on him. By choice. Without even being asked.

He ventures a look and finds Steve staring up at him, all big eyes over hollowed out cheeks, and christ, he’s glad Steve doesn’t know much about sex because it’s almost embarrassing, how quickly this could get him off. 

Steve quickly casts his eyes down, turning even redder, but he keeps going at it with the same sort of wanton enthusiasm and after a few minutes Tony just kind of instinctively threads a hand through his hair, just so that he can touch him and know that he’s really there and this is really happening.

Steve freezes up for a moment, and Tony massages him with the tips of his fingers, trying to tell him it’s okay, keep going, without having to say the words, because jesus christ he needs Steve to keep going, needs his lips and his mouth and his tongue and his hands. 

He almost forgets to warn Steve when he’s about to come, barely choking out the words before he does, too caught up in the moment of it all. He’s not used to warning, the people he sleeps with either know how to tell or will get over it. 

And Steve swallows, either by choice or because he doesn’t have time to do anything else, but he misses a little, so that when he looks up at Tony and says “was that okay?” there’s this hot little trail of white trickling from the corner of his mouth. 

And Tony just breathes heavily for a moment, not even registering the question, just trying to relive his orgasm, because, fuck. This whole thing hasn’t helped a bit with his curiosity or self exploration, because not once did he ever think it wouldn’t be fucking amazing to get a blowjob from Steve fucking Rogers, but jesus fuck it’s fucking amazing anyway.

By the time he pulls his head out of his ass Steve is standing up, and Tony notices the bulge in his pants, the wet little circle of precum, and pretends that he doesn’t. He’d love to do it, he really would, but he can’t now. Not after Steve did what was actually a pretty good job. Not when Steve probably thinks Tony is an expert.

“I can get better at it,” Steve says, blushing furiously all over again. 

“No, no, that was great,” Tony says. “You’re a natural.”

Steve ducks his head and looks away, and Tony very pointedly doesn’t look at Steve’s crotch, but Steve doesn’t mention it either. He just shifts his weight from foot to foot, like he doesn’t know what to do now.

“Well, I –”

“We could do this again some time,” Tony interrupts, trying to sound casual, feeling like a terrible, horrible human being and absolutely not caring. “You know, if you wanted.”

“I – yeah, okay,” Steve says, with a little hint of a shy smile. “I’d like that.”

And then Steve begins to walk away, to leave with a massive erection and plans to put himself in this exact same situation next week.

“Hey Steve?”

He turns a little too quickly. “Yeah?”

“You’ve uh, got something,” Tony says, because he’s not going to let Captain America leave his lab with semen on his face. 

“Oh,” Steve says, wiping his red mouth with one of those big hands. “Thanks.”

And because Tony doesn’t say anything else, he leaves. Which is how Tony Stark becomes the worst person in America.

******

There’s a part of him that thinks Steve is into him. Not actively, because he’s not stupid enough to think that Steve’s stupid enough to fall for a guy who just let Steve give him a blowjob and didn’t even try to reciprocate. But there’s still a part of him that thinks that’s the most likely explanation. 

Then he runs into Steve in the kitchen, and Steve’s completely unfazed by his presence. Which isn’t the way people react when they’re interested. So he has to accept that no, Steve’s not interested. He’s just taking advantage of an easy situation. It’s funny, in a way, that Steve’s accomplished the very thing that Tony couldn’t manage. That he’s found some meaningless person to practice giving blowjobs with.

He wonders if Steve would want Tony to fuck him. Probably not. He’s probably not as desperate as Tony is, yet. He’s still young. He probably wants to do that with someone special. 

He wonders if Steve would want to fuck him. If that’s something that’s still on the table. Probably not. 

The second time happens a lot like the first, except that this time they both know that Steve is going to be the one doing the blowing, which makes it a little less awkward. Marginally. And this time Tony pulls down his own pants, giving Steve much better access to his balls, which Steve takes advantage of. 

It’s a little bit hard to enjoy, actually, when he thinks about how much better Steve is at this than him. And by a little bit, he’s talking femtobit or something, because it’s so fucking easy to enjoy it when Steve’s gently sucking Tony’s balls into his mouth, and licking that little strip of skin underneath and doing all sorts of things that make Tony absolutely completely convinced that Steve has googled this, possibly at length.

Steve seems more relaxed, actually moaning as he takes Tony deep into his mouth, and Tony’s trying to be relaxed but the idea that he’s just some guy for Steve to practice on is making him a little less comfortable than he was last week. Which is stupid, because he technically knew that already.

Because of all these thoughts he’s having this week, as opposed to the ‘oh god yes, fuck, yes’ that was going through his head last week, it takes a little longer for him to come. There’s this tiny, oh so tiny, part of him that gets a little bit of satisfaction out of the way that Steve realizes this and knits his brow and looks at him all concerned and asks, “was that worse?”

It’s a small part of him though, and a bigger part of him wants to be the one who makes that concern go away. “No, not at all,” he says, resisting the urge to call him baby, the way he usually does when he’s reassuring his random hookups. “That was a lot better.”

“Not that the last time was bad,” he adds. “Both times were great.”

Steve nods, licking his lips even though there’s nothing there this time. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” Tony says, and then winces inwardly at the words. He waits until it’s almost awkward to ask and then gestures at Steve’s very obvious arousal. “Can I give you a handjob or something?”

“Oh,” Steve says, like it’s his fucking catchphrase or something. He looks down, and then back up at Tony and just says, “no, thank you.”

“Okay,” Tony says.

Steve doesn’t leave, which Tony takes as a sign that he’s waiting to be invited back next week. So Tony doesn’t say anything.

“Can we... do this again?”

“Oh,” Tony says, pretending that he doesn’t have any sort of stake in things. “Sure.”

“If you don’t want to...”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Tony says. “I don’t know what my schedule is like next week. Can I text you?”

“Okay,” Steve says, and that’s how Steve fucking Rogers becomes Tony Stark’s booty call.

*****

The third time is even more comfortable than the first two, and again Steve asks how he did, and again he turns down Tony’s extremely halfhearted attempt to return the favor. 

The fourth time gets preempted by an attack. Which is really a shame because Tony’s really looking forward to it, and having to put on more clothes instead of taking them off is never something that he enjoys.

But he puts up with it, because saving the city and racking up great positive publicity is something he very, very much enjoys.

It’s not a difficult fight, and he showboats just a little bit, making sure to try out some new aerial maneuvers in full view of the news cameras. Of course, there are cameras everywhere. But the iphone just doesn’t capture his magnificence as much as the news crews do. 

He barely sees any of the others, which is something that’ll probably come up in debriefing, but doesn’t really bother him. If there’s a problem, he’ll hear about it on the comm. Otherwise, he’s free to assume that everything’s going fine.

There’s one close call, only one, and of course that’s what fucking Captain America decides to confront him about after the fight. Once everyone is done high fiving and good gaming, after Cap has congratulated and told them all that they did a fucking great job even though Tony knows that it’s not any more true for any of them than it is for him, Cap takes him into a hallway for a proper chewing out.

“You need to stop showboating, you’re endangering everybody out there,” he says, trying to intimidate Tony with his body which isn’t something that’s going to work because Tony’s insured for a lot of money and Cap would never intentionally hurt him.

“Uh, no, Thor’s inability to watch his back is endagering everybody out there,” Tony says, a little bit uncomfortably backed into the wall, but not about to let it show. “The guy fights like he expects someone to come along and clean up his messes, and you’re talking to me about showing off a little bit?”

“This isn’t about Thor,” Steve says. “We’re a team and you need to act like it.”

“Oh, gee, sorry Cap,” Tony says. “Didn’t get the memo. Will definitely work real hard on that one next week.”

Steve grits his teeth. “Why are you so impossible?”

“Dunno,” Tony says, deciding to leave through the two inches of clearance between their chests. “Glad we had this conversation.”

Steve grabs him by the shoulder as he walks away, pulling Tony around so they’re facing each other again. And Steve doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, chest heaving, which should have been the first warning sign for Tony to get out of here. 

But he just stares at Steve, face blank, willing him to say something he’ll regret.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything, he just kisses him, this short, chaste kiss and then he pulls away, face bright red, and looks at Tony in shock, blinking a few times like he’s trying to register it. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, like it was the most inappropriate thing in the whole world. And he turns and walks away, head down, shoulders hunched, feet stabbing at the ground. Moving at double-quick time, Tony thinks to himself, smiling a bit before it all crashes down on him. 

That Steve fucking Rogers kissed him, which in and of itself doesn’t mean much, not with the parts of Tony’s body that Steve has also kissed, but also that he’s embarrassed about it. And that it seemed like as much of a surprise to Steve as it was to Tony. And it makes Tony think that maybe Steve is into him. Maybe he’s just a better actor than Tony expected him to be. 

He hopes Steve is into him. He could do a lot with that.

He gives it a few days, a few days in which he spends an inordinate amount of time imagining what it’d be like to have Steve fucking Rogers fuck him into the couch or against a table in his lab, or slow and sweet beneath the sheets. 

And then, because he’s learned that it’s so much easier than asking face to face, he texts him. 

“Isn’t it about time we made up for our missed plans? ;)”

He looks at it, decides that the wink has to stay, he has to let Steve know that he’s okay with the kiss, that he wants to see him again. He thinks about insinuating more, but there’s still a pretty good chance that the kiss was just some weird response that Steve has to stress. He doesn’t want to take that much of a risk. He just wants to invite him over, and they can figure things out from there.

He sends the text, and he sits back and waits for a response, watching his phone for five minutes that seem to stretch out forever. When the message pops up, he gets a little bit excited, just to come back down at the terse reply.

“No thank you.”

“Is this about the kiss? Because I was fine with it.”

“I just don’t think we should do that anymore.”

And Tony wants to argue, wants to say that no, maybe they shouldn’t do that anymore, but they should do other things. He thinks about all of the things he wants to try with Steve, about how it would feel to run his hands along Steve’s body, and to kiss him long and slow and passionate, and hold him. And really, honestly, he thinks mostly about how much he’d like for Steve to fuck him.

But then he thinks about how he’s had all of these opportunities, all of these chances to do something about it, and instead he’s been letting Steve suck him off and then disappear. That he’s never even had the decency to even put any honest effort into reciprocating. That Steve fucking Rogers is a great fucking person and Tony Stark is a narcissistic asshole. 

And he picks up his phone again, sends a short text message. It doesn’t say the things that he wants to say to Steve. It doesn’t say any of the things that he should be saying to Steve, any of the things that his brain is absolutely screaming at him to mention. It doesn’t say anything to Steve, because it’s not to Steve. It’s to some other guy, and it's short, and to the point, and just says “can I suck your dick?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to writing fanfic, so any feedback would be superly appreciated. I'd particularly like to know what did and didn't work for you, and if you felt like anything pulled you out of the story/didn't feel realistic. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, or if not, got some sort of positive utility out of it.


End file.
